October 27th, 2010
That’s what I call bad novels.
“To make a long story short, let’s imagine something called “industrial literature.” It’s job is to reproduce, ad infinitum, the same types of stories, to grind out assembly-line stereotypes, to retail noble sentiments and trembling emotions, to seize every opportunity to turn current events into docu-dramas, to conduct market studies in order to manufacture, according to demographic profile, products designed to tease the imaginations of specific categories of consumers.
That’s what I call bad novels.
Why? Because they’re not creations. Because they reproduce pre-established forms. Their enterprise is one of simplification (lies, in other words), whereas the novel is the art of truth (complexity, in other words). Because by provoking knee-jerk reactions, they lull our curiosity. Because the author is absent, and so is the reality he or she claims to describe.” –Daniel Pennac, Better Than Life
Where’s the “Like” button on this post?
October 28th, 2010 at 9:13 AMMy favourite part is “Because by provoking knee-jerk reactions, they lull our curiosity.” I never realized how dangerous that is, how damaging to our best selves bad literature can be.
October 28th, 2010 at 9:22 AMThat first paragraph is a very apt (and sad) description of the kidlit publishing industry. Sigh.
October 28th, 2010 at 9:32 AMLeave a Reply